Pathways to Darkness
by Lhiannan-Sidhe
Summary: Exalted: What do a pirate queen, a noble, a teacher, a feral orphan, and a merchant prince have in common? They all have God-like powers and an Empire of elemental warriors out to kill them. Review, Damit!
1. Author Notes (continually updated)

Check back at this page, I will be constantly updating it as I write my story.

This is an Exalted story, but I will try to include enough explanations to make it comprehensible to even those who are unfamiliar with White Wolf's newest setting.

Terms included so far.

Daiklave: Large sword

Grimcleaver: Large ax

Anima Banner: An aura, generally taking the shape of an animal or humanoid for Solars, and various elemental forms for Dragon-Blooded, that is displayed whenever an Exalt uses a lot of power.

  
  


  
  


10/8/2003

Well, here it is, the last character chapter, hopefully after this, the story will pick up. It isn't too long, but it introduces the last of the major characters, and one minor, though re-occurring character.

To reviewers

Shearre: Gee, thanks for spilling the beans about the Abyssals :-P Nevertheless, thanks you the review, I'm glad someone commented.

Bard's Soul: Ah, well Sparrow's not exactly what she appears, but she is closely tied to several Lunar Exalts in this story. Once again, thanks for the comment.

Ah well, without further ado, here it is. As ever, I thrive on constructive criticism.

  
  


8/17/2003

Good heavens it's been forever since I last updated this story! I found myself lacking direction and then getting caught up in other projects. Well, I'm back to working on this story, and hopefully I'll be able to hold onto my inspiration long enough to complete it. I'm also currently working on revising my other story, Broken Wings (insert shameless plug here), before I get back to updating that one again.

This newest chapter isn't too long, but it's the second to last of the character pieces. Once the next one is finished, the story should really get moving.

On another note: Please ignore Heaven Cried, she's an idiot who's annoyed at me for getting her web page taken down for plagiarism . I've blocked her so she shouldn't be able to post any more pointless flames.

As ever, reviews are welcomed; constructive criticism is adored.

Thanks all,

Lhiannan-Sidhe

  
  


-5/14/2002

Hello,

The next chapter is now up! Unfortunately I don't think I'm going to be able to continue updating at this same speed, it just takes up too much time. I've renamed the chapters and the story, though frankly, I think the story name is kind of silly. Oh well, since I can't think of anything better, it will just have to do. I have also expanded Malakai's chapter a little.

Heaven Cried has apologized and says that she won't post nasty reviews anymore!

Thor: I think I've found all of the mistakes you mentioned, but I'm not one hundred percent sure about the tense inconsistencies. Please tell me of you find anymore. This next chapter should clear up some of those questions you had about the Exalted world. Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

MooMooChan: Thanks a lot! For the record I do intend to finish a Warrior's Tale eventually, I just have a major case of writer's block on that one. Yes there is going to be some romance in this story, but I still haven't made up my mind about which of the characters it will involve. Maybe I'll take votes or something.

Thanks to Dracus for all of your help.

Thank you all,

Lhiannan-Sidhe 

-5/12/2002

Greetings again,

I just posted the second character chapter, and it's a good bit longer then the first.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Exalted, a Daiklave is a large sword, a Grimcleaver is a large Ax, and an anima banner is that flashy display you get when an Exalted uses lots of power.

Thank you to FuryS Forge and Yi Hsin for your reviews. I have edited the first chapter. Hopefully it is now a little clearer.

For those of you who haven't seen the reviews, I am currently being harassed by a person going by the name of Heaven Cried, or something along those lines. I have tired to block her from posting reviews, but I am not certain whether or not it has worked. Please ignore anything she might write.

Thank you,

Lhiannan-Sidhe

-5/10/2002

Greetings,

This will be the first story I have posted in quite some time, so I hope you will excuse any glaring errors. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Exalted, I ask you to give this story a chance. I will try to explain everything in time, though it might be a bit confusing at first. If you are a White Wolf fan, and you haven't played Exalted, I strongly recommend you try it. It is a bit different from what you might be used to, but it is never the less worth your time.

I intend to write this as a story following the tale of a circle of young Solar Exalted. The first few chapters will be devoted to introducing the various characters, the Dawn caste Exalted first, then the Zenith, the Twilight and so on.

Reviews are welcome and appreciated. It is easiest to improve a story when you are given feed back so I always welcome constructive criticism.

Thank you, and best of luck to you all,

Lhiannan-Sidhe


	2. Deiji

Deiji

Disclaimer: I don't own Exalted, White Wolf does, so I'm obviously not making any money off of this.

Deiji looked out over the infinite blue of the sea. She wondered how far out into the threshold they were. She had been told that if she sailed far enough into the western-most horizon, the sea and the sky would seem to merge into one endless blue mass as she came closer to the elemental pole of water. 

She wondered if they should fear attacks from the Fair Folk this far out to sea. Deiji smiled to herself. No, not fear, but rather, look forward to. She was hoping for a chance to test her skills. How would she fair, she wondered, against these creatures that were so much more then human?

She had fought Dragon-Blooded in the past. She had raided their ships and stolen their wealth. Their bones had shattered under her blows. Their lives had bled away. It seemed that there was no challenge worthy of her. And yet, she had found some strange satisfaction when she had fought the terrestrials. As if she was quenching some long forgotten anger.

What had she forgotten?

Memories came to her like shadows in her dreams. Things she shouldn't have been able to remember and things she had never seen.

She dreamed of a fortress, long forgotten. She dreamed of the guidance of the stars and of rivers of blood, of endless, glorious battle. But most of all, she dreamed of the sea, beautiful, and unforgiving.

Since her Exaltation she had dreamt so much, and it was her dreams that had driven her this far out into the threshold. She had to find that fortress. It was so important that it felt as if it consumed her soul

The crew hadn't been happy about this particular detour. After all, there weren't any ships to attack out in the threshold, and therefore, no jade to be made, but they had agreed to come.

*******

As a child Deiji had run through the docks of Nexus, watching merchant and warrior ships sailing in and out of the port. The docks had been her home, more so, at least then the reached hole her parents called their own. 

Her father had been a massive towering monster, his hair and beard the deep blue only found out in the farthest western reaches. Her mother was paler, and brown haired, a native of Nexus, with a wiry build, and an eye for trouble. Deiji hated them both.

She had, through most of her childhood, sought to escape her father's terrifying and dangerous presence, and her mother's quiet manipulations. She had taken to the streets, learning to fight among the endless brawls in the fighting pits and back alleys of the largest city in the Scavenger Lands. She earned a decent amount of jade working as a pit fighter some days and a thief on others, enough to keep her parents satisfied. Satisfied, at least, on occasion.

She come home one morning, caring a small purse of winnings and placed it on the table in front of her mother. It was less then she usually brought home, times were tough and Deiji, being a clever girl, was carefully storing away part of her earnings.

Her mother's eyes narrowed as Deiji placed the small bag on the table. The corners of the woman's mouth turned upward in an unpleasant sneer.

"That's all?" she asked. When Deiji nodded, her mother snorted. "A pity, Deiji. A pity you aren't pretty enough to be a decent whore, we would make more jade if you were."

Deiji's eyes narrowed and she clenched her fists. She looked her mother in the eyes, "Unlike you, mother?" she asked.

Deiji saw the blow coming, but didn't dodge. Dodging, she had learned years ago, was a sure way to encourage a more brutal beating. Still the strength behind the blow shocked her, and sent her sprawling onto the floor. Deiji tasted blood in her mouth, and was reminded that when her mother was younger, she had been one of the better known pit fighters. She had been a champion, until one of her legs was damaged beyond repair in a fight. Suddenly she had found herself unable to make a living. Her choice had been simple; she had chosen a sailor, Deiji's father, who was a cold, brutal, monster of a man. Though he never spoke of it, Deiji knew that when he wasn't home, he was working as a pirate. Never the less, he treated his beautiful, if slightly crippled, new bride with surprising gentleness. The same treatment, however, was not also extended to his offspring. 

Deiji was the youngest of three children. Her brother had died of injuries he had received at their father's hands, and her sister had run away years ago. Deiji didn't know what had become of her, and frankly, didn't much care. What mattered was survival.

Deiji staggered to her feet, and wiped the blood from her mouth, only to hit the ground a second time when her mother struck her once more.

"Stupid bitch!" her mother shrieked "Did you honestly think you could hide money from me?"

Deiji pulled herself into a crouching position and watched her mother warily. Her mother stepped forward, dragging her lame leg as she went. Deiji heard a door open behind her. Her father was home. She tried to move, but was too slow, and his fist slammed into the back of her head. She reeled from the blow and spots danced before her eyes. She felt him pick her up, and slam her into a wall. Deiji tried to focus on his face, but couldn't. Her parents were saying something to her, but she couldn't understand them. She felt one of them strike her again, and again. In the back of her mind she knew that she probably wouldn't survive this beating.

Then something happened. For the first time in recent memory she felt fear and anger, two emotions she had long repressed. She felt her mind fill with a strange power that seemed as if it was going to burn her up from the inside. Her ears were filled with a strange sound, like singing, and the light of the sun seemed to shine in her eyes. Something within her mind snapped, and she lashed out. She felt her fist strike flesh, and then bone. She felt blood wash over her arm, and her father released her.

She landed on the ground and then stood up and opened her eyes. The pain was gone. She looked at her parents, a sudden calm filling her. The area was filled with a golden light that seemed to be coming off of her skin. Her father lay on the ground clutching his side, blood seeping between his fingers. Her mother stood some distance away, leaning on her cane. Both of their faces were filled with a strange, almost animal, fear.

She killed them both, then ran from the city at inhuman speed, her body surrounded by a golden sea serpent. She ran through the streets, sending people flying as she pushed past them. Screams followed her as she ran. She leaped over walls with inhuman ease. At one point two armed men tried to block her flight, but turned to run as soon as they got a good look at her. She escaped the city walls; this was the farthest she had ever gone. On instinct she turned to run west, with the rising sun on her back.

She ran for weeks, following the river to the sea, and when she had looked out on to its crystalline beauty, and breathed the strangely familiar smell, her heart was at peace again. Deiji remained on the seashore for a time, catching fish for food and desperately trying to understand what she had become. Then the dreams came.

The fortress, she became certain, would lead her to the answers she sought. But how could a mere child possibly commandeer a vessel to take her there? The first step, she came to believe, would be to harness the power within her. So on a quite stretch of rocky shoreline, far from prying eyes, she began to practice with the strange new energy. It didn't take long for her to master the basics; she learned how to increase her strength, and the speed of her blows, to make her skin resistant to attack, and to jump impossibly high. She also carefully watched the results of her use of power. At first a symbol would appear on her forehead, a glowing stylized sun. Then as she used more power, a beautiful, glowing, golden nimbus would surround her eventually taking shape and becoming a sea serpent with smoldering red eyes.

This, she came to believe, was similar to what the Dragon-Blooded must be capable of. But though she had heard of Dragon-Blooded being born from commoners, she was certain that she was not one of their kind. As she had fled from the city cries of "Anathema" had followed her. So that was what she was. 

She was Anathema, demon spawn, one of the monsters that the Dragon-Blooded claimed to protect humanity from. That almost amused her. She was not, to her knowledge any sort of demon, nor had she made any sort of deal with a demon. She had never even met a demon, unless one counted her mother. That thought brought a smile to her lips, the first since her Exaltation, for that must have been what it was. She was an Exalted, like the Dragon-Blooded, but not one of their number. Thoughts of the Dragon-Blooded wiped the smile away. 

Dragon-Blooded hunted Anathema. Why hadn't they come after her? She could not possibly have escaped their attention, not with the commotion she caused during her escape from Nexus. Yet no one had come hunting her.

She decided then that she would have to get moving if she were to find the fortress from her dreams before the Dragon-Blooded came for her. She set out along the coastline, heading northwards. After days of traveling she came upon a port town, as much as that stinking mess of taverns and brothels could be called a town. There was a single ship at the docks and its occupants certainly didn't seem like merchants. Deiji listened to their speech as she hid among the cargo. These were pirates, she realized, and this town existed to support their kind. From that thought came the solution to her problem. When the ship was ready to set sail again, she hid onboard and waited until they were some distance out to sea. She had then climbed out of her hiding place and went to speak with them.

The crew hadn't been very fond of her at first. They hadn't understood what she was. All they could see was a girl, seemingly barely sixteen summers old, with her blue hair in two bunches, a faint dusting of freckles across her face, and her clothing badly tattered. She had stood on the deck as they laughed at her. She watched them, smiling calmly, and told them once more, she needed a ship, she needed a crew, and they would do perfectly. They laughed and jeered and taunted, and then she grew tired of it, and attacked.

Three of them died that day. That had been a pity, she hadn't meant to waste any of the valuable crew, but her strength was just too hard to control, and she shattered their bones so easily.

*******

Since that day her authority had been tested only once, and that man was also dead. She had broken all the bones in his arms before killing him. She hadn't delighted in hurting him, but the crew had needed just such an example. They had needed to see just what she was, and what she was capable of.

Now the crew respected her, or feared her, or maybe, even loved her. It was all the same thing, wasn't it? She had led them to more riches then they could have dreamt of. She had born the brunt of the combat herself, and, ironically, as result of her caution, she hadn't lost a single crewmember to an enemy attack. Every person that had died, had died by her hand. Disturbing perhaps, but the crew didn't seem to notice. 

Years had passed, and she had amassed quite a fortune. They were amazingly successful. Every guild ship foolish enough to sail into their territory feared her banner. Even the Empire had taken notice, sending out ships with Dragon-Blooded onboard in order to stop her. Deiji had killed the fools with relative ease and took their Elemental Jade weapons as trophies. By her very existence she dared their attacks. They rose to the occasion and then she killed them.

She lived for the thrill of battle, but it was slowly becoming empty, and the dreams were returning in even greater strength. She needed answers, needed to know what she was once and for all. She needed to know if there were others of her kind to be found. Even here, surrounded by her crew, she was alone. They followed her orders, but kept their distance. Loneliness was beginning to eat away at her peace of mind.

At the last port, she had given them all a choice, to stay or to go. They had all chosen to stay, despite where this new trip would take them. When the dreams had grown so insistent that she could no longer ignore them, they had set out.

All that had brought her here, to the threshold. She stood in the crow's nest, holding on to the mainmast while watching over the sea for some sign that she had found the fortress from her dreams. She felt the wind stir her hair as she basked in the warm glow of the sun. She could hear her crew's shouts from far below, intermingled with the endless sound of the water. 

She knew she was close. She wasn't certain how she knew, perhaps the same way she knew where to look.

__

Are you proud of me now father? I have become what you were, only so much greater.

In a moment something caught her eye, some kind of distortion on the water. As they drew closer she realized what it was. The top of a long submerged tower poked up from beneath the water.

Deiji had found her fortress, and it was lost beneath the waves.


	3. Malakai

Malakai

Sesus Malakai stood before the looking glass. He surveyed his reflection, looking for even the tiniest flaw. He smoothed his flame-red hair back and adjusted his school uniform. Red hair, he knew, was a sign of his good breeding. 

In one swift motion he shattered the mirror.

He clenched his fists, trying desperately to control his anger. "Good breeding," they said. What use was it? He had been judged unworthy of the blessing of the Elemental Dragons. His "good breeding" was worthless. 

He had already reached his fifteenth birthday and he had not yet Exalted. He knew that almost no one reached Exaltation at his age. He, Malakai of house Sesus, direct descendant of the Scarlet Empress herself, had been judged unworthy of becoming one of the Dragon-Blooded. He had failed both himself, and his family.

He didn't understand why he hadn't been chosen. When he had first arrived at primary school at the age of eight, people had taken notice of him. All of the instructors were certain that he was destined for great things. Where we walked, people stood aside. When he spoke, people listened. He was far beyond his age group in all of his lessons. He excelled at swordplay, at military strategy, and in all of his scholarly studies. He had been exactly what his family wanted, exactly what was demanded of him. He had been perfect.

But one year had passed, and then another, and then another, and his Exaltation never came. He watched other students become Dragon-Blooded. He watched even more students leave the school as mortals, as failures. 

He couldn't bear the thought of being one of them, small and insignificant.

As a mortal he would live only decades, not the centuries he desired. His strength would be nothing. He would be given little power or responsibility. No matter how skilled he proved himself to be, no matter how brave, or cunning, he would still be nothing.

His parents had come to visit him at the school a few weeks ago. It was the first time he had seen them in years. They had both stood there, proud, powerful, fire aspect Dragon-Blooded. They had told him that he still had time, there had even been one young dynast that had Exalted at the graduation ceremony. But even as they spoke he could see the disappointment in their eyes, and the reproach. He was pathetic. He had failed them.

A few months ago another students from his dormitory had become Dragon-Blooded. Starfall Steel was a patrician of an exceptionally wealthy family, and the closest thing Malakai had to a friend. Now Steel had joined the Dragon-Blooded of the earth aspect, and Malakai was left to his own misery. 

Malakai couldn't even begin to comprehend why a patrician had been chosen over a dynast, but such was the way of the elemental dragons, and he could do nothing.

"Kai?" a voice called, "Kai, are you there? You'll be late for the morning exercises."

Malakai jerked back to alertness. He turned to see who had addressed him. It was one of the children of house Cynis, another that had been judged unworthy. He searched his memory for her name, but it didn't come. She stood at the doorway, watching him anxiously. Her eyes were reddened and slightly puffy, as if she had been crying. Yesterday one of her family members had come to speak with her. From what little Malakai had heard of the discussion, they had not taken her failure well. That she had shed tears was another disgrace, but she had done so only in private, so it could be overlooked.

Malakai had no love for house Cynis and their hedonistic ways, but he felt sympathy for this one. She, of all people, must understand what it meant to fail. He smiled at her kindly, his own rage finally melting away. "I thank you, my lady. I will be along in a moment." He said with a nod.

She smiled at him, changing her features from pretty to striking. She looked much better when she smiled, he decided. He would like to see her smile more often. Her gaze darted down to his hand, and then to the mirror behind him. Her eyes widened in surprise. "You're bleeding!" she said as she rushed to into the dormitory to look at his hand.

He looked down at the blood on his hand, noticing, for the first time, that he had cut it when he had struck the mirror. He quickly moved his arm away from his shirt so that he wouldn't stain his uniform.

The girl took his hand in hers and examined the cut. He looked at her in shock. "You aren't allowed in here!" he exclaimed, "This is a boys dormitory!"

She looked up at him, her intense green eyes meeting his black ones. "I won't tell anyone if you won't." She said as she turned to look for something in the drawers under the mirror. She came back up with a small cedar box containing bandages. He watched as she cleaned his wound with careful precision, and then bandaged it. 

He flexed his hand, it hurt slightly, but the pain was easily ignored. He looked up at her to thank her, but before he could she grabbed his arm and pulled him along with her. "Hurry," she said. "We'll be late." They ran past the row of beds that filled the dorm and out the door. They sprinted into the hallway and from there into the sun-filled courtyard. Most of the other human students were already assembled; the Dragon-Blooded students had separate exercise yards and dormitories.

Malakai joined the boys of his age group in the back row, and the girl went to join the other females. Malakai found himself standing next to serious looking Jattere, a son of house Mnemon. He turned to the boy and addressed him. "Do you know that girls name?" he asked, gesturing towards the Cynis daughter. "The one with the brown hair?" 

Jattere turned to look at the girl for a moment and then looked back at Malakai. "I think her name is Cynis Dalla." He replied carefully.

Malakai thanked him and then turned to look at the front of the yard. Strange, the instructor wasn't there yet. His gaze wandered back toward Dalla. She was standing at perfectly disciplined attention. Her uniform and hair were perfectly neat. Perhaps he could convince his family to make a bid for her hand? She was not a Dragon-Blooded, but she was of very good breeding. Perhaps his parents would not be entirely opposed to a marriage? That thought improved his mood somewhat.

"I wonder who they are." The Mnemon boy said, taking Malakai thoughts away from Dalla. 

Malakai followed his gaze up to the wall surrounding the courtyard and noticed for the first time that there were strangers watching them. He mentally admonished himself for being so oblivious. He looked over the figures. Some of them seemed to be carrying Elemental Jade weapons or wearing Elemental Jade armor, and one at least, was wearing the robes of a monk of the Immaculate Order. This startled Malakai more then a little. What reason would a group of Dragon-Blooded, much less monks of the Immaculate Order, possibly have for visiting The School of Gainful Learning? Furthermore, what reason would they possibly have for watching the unExalted students? Malakai frowned bitterly.

"That one is a monk of the Immaculate Order." Malakai told Jattere cautiously.

At that statement Jattere's eyes widened in excitement. "That's not just a monk!" he exclaimed excitedly "Look at their insignia! That's the Wyld Hunt! Do you think they're here hunting Anathema?"

Malakai's eyes widened in surprise and he shrugged his shoulders. The Wyld Hunt, the tool of the Immaculate Order sent to track down and destroy the demonic Anathema. Once these were the greatest warriors in the entire realm. As a small child he had seen them corner and destroy one of the Unclean, a type of Anathema. They had been perfect, working in wondrous synchronization. He had known then that this was the role he wanted, to become Dragon-Blooded, to defend the Empire from the Anathema. But those thoughts only brought him back to what he was now, a failure.

Malakai fought back his ever-present rage. For as long as he could remember he had struggled to remain in control of himself, fighting down an all consuming anger, but over the last few months it had grow worse, threatening to over come his control.

Malakai looked up, Mnemon Jattere, was watching the Hunters with something akin to hero-worship. Malakai looked them over; he had heard rumors that the Wyld Hunt was practically falling apart, unable to successfully hunt down the emerging Anathema, but until now he had just discarded those rumors as stories told to frighten children. Now, as he looked at the group that surrounded the yard, he became certain that the rumors were true. Some of them looked like Dragon-Blooded, but only one of them looked like a monk, and the rest certainly did not look like they lived up what he expected of the Wyld Hunt. That they had mortals in their number was telling enough, and greatly disturbing.

Malakai turned his head and noticed that the monk was looking at him. He met the man's intense gaze for a moment and then looked away. He did not want to be accused of being impertinent towards his betters. Malakai clenched his fists unconsciously.

"Look up," he head Jattere say, "Something's happening"

Malakai looked to where Jattere was pointing. All of the schools instructors were walking onto the platform at the front of the yard. That was another thing out of the ordinary. He gazed over the group of assembled teachers. In as long as he had studied at this school, he had never seen them assemble thus. 

The school's dominie, an unpleasantly prune-like old human woman, strode to the front of the students. Her voice rang out over them "Today is a special day," she began, "Today we have visitors from the Immaculate Order." Malakai listened, he thought he detected a trace of a tremor in her voice. "I hope that you will all show them the proper respect…" she continued, but Malakai tuned her out. Something was very wrong. He couldn't quite understand what it was, but for some reason a maddening panic was slowly rising inside of him. He was starting to feel dizzy, and the sun was very hot on his back and neck. He felt his pulse quicken, and his breathing become irregular. Small beads of perspiration were beginning to break out on his forehead. One of the teachers was watching him. Malakai looked at the man. He was the philosophy instructor; Malakai had taken many of the classes he taught, he liked him. He desperately tried to clear his mind so that he could listen to what was being said, but couldn't.

"There will be no morning exercise today. You are all dismissed and you may return to you dormitories, save those of you who are in your last year of study. Our guests wish to have a word with you." The dominie's voice rang out, cutting through Malakai's dizziness. As the other students filed out of the courtyard muttering to themselves, Malakai managed to clear his head a little. He steadied himself a bit and then strode forth with his classmates towards the platform where the Dragon-Blooded visitors were now assembling. The feeling of panic was rising inside of him again. He was starting to feel cold, but the sunlight on his back was oddly comforting.

He looked back up to the platform. Strange, the philosophy instructor wasn't there anymore. Where had he gone? One of the Hunters was walking to the front of the platform. Malakai heard the man begin to speak. The man's voice was oddly clear, despite the haze that seemed to have descended over Malakai's mind.

"I am going to entrust you with very important information. My companions have decided that you are probably mature enough to handle this well." His voice was filled with scorn, as if it was hardly likely. "We have, of course, already informed the Dragon-Blooded students of what I am about to tell you. They at least, I am certain are more then capable of keeping calm." The man stopped for a moment, his eyes locked on to Malakai's face. Malakai desperately tried to overcome the quickly growing panic. "We are here hunting an Anathema." The man said. Malakai heard his classmates startled exclamations, but could not understand them. He was reeling. The word _Anathema_ echoed inside of his mind over and over again. The man was speaking again, but Malakai couldn't understand a word he was saying. There was a noise in his ears, as if everything he had ever heard, every shouted command, every whispered word, was being screamed back at him. It filled his mind, a hundred maddening, overlapping voices. His body was filled with an all-consuming pain, as if his soul was being torn away. He looked up. The man had stopped speaking and was looking at him. Everyone was looking at him. The students that had been standing closest to him were slowly backing away. Someone else was saying something now, but he didn't know what. He felt himself start to fall, and then…

*******

Everything was silent. The pain was gone. Malakai tried to stand up but found that he couldn't. Or maybe he was already standing? He couldn't tell. He felt as if he was floating. The fear was gone, he felt perfectly at peace for the first time in his life. He opened his eyes, but there was nothing but a burning white brilliance. He shut them again as quickly as he could. There was someone, something, standing in front of him, but he couldn't bear to look at it. 

The figure approached him slowly. He could feel, rather then see its presence. He felt strong arms wrap around him, pulling him into an embrace. It felt so good that he wanted to cry.

_Calm yourself, little one._ The being's voice said into his ear. It was a sound that was both a thunderous roar, and the softest of whispers. _A great burden has been placed on you this day._

_What are you?_ He wanted to ask, but could not find his voice.

The being seemed to hear him, even though he never spoke. _I am the one who has both created, and chosen you. I am your father, Malakai, _its voice echoed in his mind.

_Where am I?_

_You are with me. Soon I will return you to the world. There will be those who will try to destroy you. Know that you are greater then they. Have faith in the gifts that I have given you._

Malakai felt the being begin to move away. He didn't want it to leave him. 

_Please! Who are you?_ His mind screamed. 

He felt it take his face in its hand. _I am the one who created all that there is. I am the great one who has been forgotten. I turned my back on all of creation, and all of my children. Now I have come to tell you that I regret the choices I made. I forgive you child, you and all of your brothers and sisters._

_Forgive me?_

_Yes, go now, and do my will._

_But I don't understand what you want from me!_

_You will. You will understand. And tell them; tell them that I forgive them._

*******

Malakai felt himself start to fall, but he caught himself before he hit the ground. He looked up and saw his classmates backing away from him. He stood up and straitened his back. He felt… wondrous, powerful. He started to look around. A brilliant gold and silver light was radiating from his skin, taking form above him into a massive armored giant with silver-feathered wings springing from its back. Someone screamed. Malakai turned, it was Dalla. She was looking at something behind him, terrified. Malakai turned to see what it was that had frightened her, but there was nothing there. He looked back at her. She wasn't looking behind him; she was looking _at_ him. He didn't understand. Why would she fear him?

Then he heard them, the cries of "Anathema!" and "Blasphemer". The supernatural calm that had descended on him melted away. He was terrified. He was an Anathema. He turned. The Wyld Hunt was advancing on him. How could he stand a chance against the righteous might of the Dragon-Blooded? He was only a child!

"So you have chosen to reveal yourself Anathema." Malakai turned. It was the man who had been speaking before. "That was easier then I thought it would be," the man muttered to himself. He was carrying a black jade daiklave and advancing upon Malakai with the rest of the Hunt. "Surrender, and your death will be painless!"

"But I haven't done anything!" Malakai called out. They were surrounding him. He didn't have anywhere to run to.

The man, the leader of the Hunt leered at him. "You have made pacts with demons! You are Anathema!"

"Demons?" Malakai didn't remember any demons, only the being, but that couldn't possibly have been a demon. No demon could ever have made him feel so safe, so wonderful. Unless that was what it meant to be Anathema?

_There will be those who will try to destroy you. Know that you are greater then they. Have faith in the gifts that I have given you._

What use was faith? If only he had a sword, then he might have a chance. And then he did have a sword. It seemed to form out of nothingness; coalescing into a blade of pure golden light. His opponent seemed to take this as a sign of aggression, because he charged to attack.

_But I haven't done anything!_ Malakai's fear turned to anger as he moved forward to intercept the blow. _Why are they attacking? I haven't done anything! _The Dragon-Blooded swung his weapon and Malakai parried it with unnatural ease, throwing his attacker off balance. The Dragon-Blooded backed up, and a deep blue glow began to emanate from him, making water-like patterns in the air. Malakai heard the sound of waves. 

His opponent began to circle him. Malakai held off confused. Something wasn't right. On instinct he ducked as a Grimcleaver cut over his head. He brought his own weapon up and gutted his attacker. It was a fatal blow, even to a Dragon-Blooded, and the man collapsed into a growing pool of blood. Malakai turned, just in time to stop an attack from another Hunter. All around him their anima banners were flaring up. He heard the sounds of thunder, of bonfires, and of crashing waves.

Malakai knew that he wouldn't survive this. He seemed capable of handling them one on one, but the strength of the Dragon-Blooded was at its greatest when they worked in unison. He needed to run, but couldn't find anyway to escape. He was in a walled yard, and even if he could escape this area, he would never make it out of the massive school compound itself.

The leader attacked him again. Malakai sidestepped the move and spun around, swinging his blade in an essence laden arch. He felt it cut through black jade armor, and then flesh. Something hit the ground with a sickening thump, followed by a louder clanging sound of a falling, armored body. Before Malakai could turn to see what he had done, something struck him in the back. He stumbled. The blow had felt like it had not only cracked his ribs, but drained away his life essence as well.

Malakai dodged another blow, and turned to look at this new attacker. It was the Immaculate monk he had seen earlier. He was regarding Malakai with calm, but determined eyes. He had his hands out in front of him, weaponless, but no doubt more then ready to attack. 

Malakai started trying to back away through the gap he had created when he defeated the least opponent, but the circle was closing around him again. He was tired and felt oddly drained, and he had no where to run. Then a light exploded in front of him leaving him unharmed, but throwing the Dragon-Blooded back like rag dolls. 

Malakai didn't stop to ponder his good fortune, he just ran passed them. At some point during the battle, the courtyard had been cleared of students. Malakai was grateful for that. He didn't want to risk hurting anyone with what he was about to do. He slammed into one of the courtyard's outer walls, using all of his strength and essence. He felt the bricks give way pushed though the wall. He landed in a heap on the other side and didn't stop to think before running off. He had to find somewhere to hide.

He ran through corridor after corridor. He had no idea where to run to but didn't dare stop moving for fear of being found by the Dragon-Blooded hunters. As he stopped to catch his breath, someone slammed into him and placed a hand over his mouth. Malakai started to struggle but a voice whispered "Quiet, I'm a friend." He was still scared nearly senseless, but then he heard it.

_Trust him._


	4. Stream

Stream

_Why can't my life ever be simple? _Crying Stream mused as he went over a pile of student papers. As the philosophy instructor for a school full of wealthy patrician and dynast children, he was forced to walk a very fine line. He saw it as his duty to introduce some flexibility into his pupils' otherwise hopelessly rigid world view, but at the same time he was forced to be extremely careful about what he taught, lest he offend the Immaculate Order. He shuddered. At the slightest whiff of heresy the Immaculates would descend upon the school, and circumstances being what they were, he did not want to attract their scrutiny.

The Order of the Immaculate Dragons served as the state religion of the Empire. The basic tenets of the order were fairly straightforward. The Immaculate monks believed that as a soul walked the road to enlightenment, they would be reincarnated numerous times. Each incarnation would bring the individual closer to the perfection of the five Elemental Dragons, the beings that were said to slumber at the five elemental poles. It was the Elemental out anything Dragons, the order proclaimed, that granted the Dragon-Blooded their powers, and the Dragon-Blooded themselves, were the farthest along the path of ultimate enlightenment. All others, the order claimed, must therefore obey the Dragon-Blooded. The order also spent much of its time and energy stamping that even resembled heresy, and hunting those it proclaimed Anathema. To this end the Immaculate Order trained warrior-monks, Dragon-Blooded immeasurably skilled in the martial arts.

The Empire itself, Stream reflected, was only really in control of the Blessed Isle. The Threshold, the continental landmass surrounding the Isle, was only partially loyal to the realm. The lands surrounding the Inland Sea were the most likely to be loyal, but as a person traveled farther away from the Isle, the lands became more independent, less likely to pay tribute to the Empire, or subscribe to the beliefs of the Immaculate order. Farthest from the realm were the Elemental Poles of fire to the south, water to the west, air to the north, and wood to the east. The Elemental Pole of earth stood at the very center of the Realm, stabilizing the known world with its influence. To the west was a massive sea, home to a chain of islands. The far north was a frozen wasteland, and the far south, a sweltering desert. To the direct east were the scavenger lands, a series of independent city-states.

So why, Stream asked himself, of all the places he could have gone, did he chose to remain in the heart of the Empire, where he was in the most danger? And why, of all the occupations he could have chosen, did he become a teacher? He sighed in both frustration and exhaustion. He hadn't slept much that night. Come to think of it, he hadn't slept at all, unless he counted the hour-long nap he had taken earlier. He had spent most of his time deep in his personal research, and now he was spending the rest of his time looking over his student's work.

He was still shuffling through the sheets of parchment when he heard a knock at his door. He looked out the window. The sun was just peaking over the horizon, which meant that the students would be awake.

"Enter." He called out absentmindedly, but when he looked up from his work he found that it was not a student as he had expected. Instead the school's dominie stood at his door. Stream got up from his desk with a start. "Dominie, forgive me…" he began, but she silenced him with a wave of her gnarled hand.

"Please sit down, Instructor." She said as she entered his office, leaning on her cane. She walked the few steps from the door, carefully avoiding the books and manuscripts that were strewn over the floor, and seated herself across the desk from Stream. She looked intently at him for a moment before speaking again. "In the years that you have been an instructor here, I have noticed that you have certain… opinions about the Immaculate Order, that are a little, shall we say… unorthodox?" Stream opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off again. "No, don't deny it. I know you have no love for the Order, but I will not ask why." Seeing his worried expression she attempted to calm him. "Do not worry, Instructor Stream, I will not report you to them, I have no intention of losing one of my more talented teachers."

He took several deep breaths and tried to calm his wildly beating heart. "Then why are you here?" he asked cautiously.

The dominie adjusted her grip on her cane before responding. "A small group from the Immaculate Order is visiting our school, and I would not want you to say or do anything that might be an embarrassment to us." She looked around the office. "And please, do something about this mess."

Stream smiled in relief. "Don't worry Dominie, that won't be a problem."

She nodded to him and then stood. "There will be no morning exercises for the human children, our visitors want to make an announcement and they want the instructors present. I believe that they have already spoken with the Dragon-Blooded children."

She began to walk towards the exit, but Stream called out to her. "Dominie, who are they exactly?"

She stopped at the door and turned to look at Stream. "I am not certain, but I believe they belong to the Wyld Hunt."

At her words, Stream felt a cold weight descend in the pit of his stomach. "Thank you, Dominie." He said weakly. She nodded to him and left.

Stream sank back into his chair a feeling of dread threatening to overwhelm him. How had they found out? His hands were shaking. He tried to calm himself enough to think clearly. He started to formulate an escape plan, but then stopped himself. "No," he whispered to himself "Think about this logically." If the wild hunt had found out about him they would have descended without warning in the night. They certainly would not have made any sort of announcement to the students. They were here for another reason. Most likely their seers had foreseen the rebirth of a Solar Anathema. If that was the case, Steam thought as began to pick papers off of his floor, then he would have to do something to help this new Exalt. That was, after all, they only reason he had chosen to remain on the Blessed Isle, to find others of his kind and help them escape the Dragon-Blooded hunters.

Stream lifted a stack of books and set them back on the shelf were they belonged. He looked around his office, it was far from clean, but it would have to do. He crouched down to look under his desk, running his fingers over the floor until he found a small knothole. He put his hand on the surface of the wood and channeled wisps of energy into the minor enchantments he had placed there. He felt the traps dissipate and lifted the wooden plank. He carefully brushed aside a thin layer of dust that had collected over the top book. He pulled several old tomes from the secret compartment before finding what he was looking for. Stream pulled a coarsely woven cloak from the compartment and ran his fingers over the weaving. Small threads of metal ran through the cloth, shimmering in the early morning light.

Stream pulled the cloak over his shoulders, and then replaced the other contents of the compartment, placed the board back into place and then reworked the minor trapping enchantments back into the wood. He found a second cloak, the one he usually wore and placed that over the one he had taken from the compartment. It was a little warm for this weather, but it would have to do.

Stream strode from his room and down the corridor. He stopped to look out from the one of the windows. The School of Gainful Learning was built around a series of courtyards. Some, like the one bellow, were made for simple aerobic exercises. Other contained archery ranges, fountains, swimming pools, and whatever else the builders had deemed necessary additions to a foremost school for the education of the wealthy and privileged. The classrooms, offices, and dormitories were situated in the buildings surrounding the courtyards. Guards, armed with long bows or similar weapons, usually patrolled the rooftops and walls that looked down onto open areas, in order to protect the students from assassins. The school grounds also contained fields and small woods, used for battle practice or various competitions. Surrounding everything was a massive wall with only two gates, patrolled day and night by more guards. Teachers and staff, were of course, free to come and go as they pleased. Students could only leave the grounds on the last of every seven days, when their family was allowed to visit, and then only when accompanied by a family member.

Stream had noticed that the dynasts rarely came to visit their children, unless they intended to berate the child for some sort of failure, usually because the child had not reached Exaltation and become one of the Dragon-Blooded. For the patricians, the pressures were not so extreme. They were not expected to become Dragon-Blooded as the dynasts were, and that, Stream mused, was much more realist, since the vast majority of students did not Exalt. 

The students had just finished assembling in the yard below. They had arranged themselves, facing a platform at the front of the yard, with the youngest students in front and the oldest in the back.

Stream watched as two stragglers ran one of the dormitories and joined their respective rows. After a moment, Stream recognized one of them as Cynis Dalla, a surprisingly kindhearted dynast of a house known for its foothold in the slave trade. The other one Stream remembered in an instant. Sesus Malakai tended to leave a lasting impression on those who met him. The boy stood just over average height, and was of fairly muscular build. His hair was an intense red found only among well-bred members of dynastic families associated with the element of fire, and his eyes were jet black. However, it wasn't his physical appearance that set him apart from his peers. The young Sesus had a sort of intensity, a force of character, which seemed to command both attention and respect. Unfortunately, he also had a dangerously short temper.

Crying Stream watched the students for a moment longer before heading down to join the other instructors. As he and the other instructors followed the dominie out into the sunshine, Stream kept a careful watch over the Hunters as the dominie addressed the students, but as the dominie droned on about proper respect, Stream's attention began to wander. As he scanned the crowd he noticed that Sesus Malakai was not standing in his usual stiff attention. As he watched, the student began to sway in place. For a moment Malakai looked up at Stream, and then his eyes glazed over.

_No, not now!_ Stream thought to himself as he realized what was happening. He couldn't imagine a worse time for the boy to Exalt.

As the dominie dismissed the younger students, Stream used the momentary distraction to duck back inside the building. The best he could hope for would be a chance to distract the Wyld Hunt. Hopefully Malakai would have the presence of mind to run when given the opportunity.

Stream said a prayer to the Unconquered Sun that no one would notice his absence, as he bolted up a flight of stairs. He kept moving through the corridors, taking turn after turn, until he found an empty classroom. He closed the door behind him and approached one of the windows. Below him he could see the hunter's leader giving a speech.

"We are here hunting an Anathema." The man said. He waited a moment for the children's gasps to subside. "I hope that you will all do your duty and report any unusual occurrences…" he trailed off. His eyes locked on Malakai, who was clutching his head, his breathing erratic. The students nearest the boy began to back away. Malakai let out a scream of agony, and began to fall.

Time seemed to slow down for the briefest instant. Before he hit the ground, Malakai caught himself, and then it happened. As the boy began to straighten, a brilliant golden light leapt up around him taking form above. Stream jumped back from his window in surprise, as the boy's anima formed into a towering, armored figure. As he boy straightened, so did the figure and from its back sprung massive silver wings. Someone screamed, and cries of "Anathema" came from the crowd.

Stream approached the window again. The Dragon-Blooded were advancing on the boy. The dominie ordered the instructors to get the children out of the courtyard, but neither the boy, nor the Dragon-Blooded noticed.

Stream looked down at the boy, trying to get a clear view at his forehead. In the middle of the boy's brow was a simple golden circle. Stream inhaled sharply. The boy was a member of the Zenith Caste.

Malakai looked scared now. He was backing off from the approaching Hunters. They exchanged words; but Stream couldn't hear what was being said. A weapon of pure light appeared in the boy's hand, and the leader attacked. Malakai deflected the assault, but another Dragon-Blooded came up from behind the boy, and Stream was certain he was done for. At the last possible second the boy ducked and turned, swinging out with his glowing blade, gutting his opponent.

Stream looked up. He saw an Immaculate Monk standing on top of the wall across the courtyard, preparing to jump down and join the battle. He had to help the boy soon. No child, no matter powerful could stand against an Immaculate martial artist. Stream began to gather nearly all of his internal essence in preparation for a simple spell, but he knew it would take time.

Below Stream's window, the leader attacked a second time, and Malakai moved out of the way. This time, however, the boy countered. Stream flinched as the boy's blade cut through his opponent's armor and neck. In the air above the battle, the behemoth flared its wings, easily over-shadowing the Dragon-Bloodeds' weaker animas. 

The monk, having jumped from the wall, attacked the moment the boy's back was turned. Stream saw tendrils of essence leave Malakai's body as the monk struck the boy. He knew it was time to finish his spell. He chanted a few words under his breath and felt the energy gather in-between his hands. He released the spell and it sped off into the group of Dragon-Blooded. It exploded in a bright yellow nova, hurtling them back, but leaving Malakai unharmed.

The boy did as Stream had hoped; he tried to escape. Stream watched him hurtle though a wall before going after turning to leave the classroom. He needed to find the boy quickly. His spell would only serve to stun the remaining hunters for a moment. They would soon be up and searching for the boy, and with the display he was leaving in his wake, he wouldn't be very hard to find. Fortunately this worked to Stream's advantage as well. It did not take him long to find the boy among the now nearly deserted corridors.

Stream came up behind Malakai and pinned him to a wall. The boy began to struggle, but Stream whispered to him, "Quiet, I'm a friend," and the boy stopped trying to escape.

The boy turned around, "Instructor?" he breathed in surprise.

Stream shushed him. He pulled the coarse cloak from his shoulders and wrapped it around Malakai. At once the metal threads began glow and Malakai's anima banner subsided, leaving only a pale golden glow. Malakai looked like he was about to ask a question, but Crying Stream shook his head. "No questions, just come." He said as he gestured for the young Sesus to follow him. He led Malakai through the mess hall and into the kitchens. 

"Where are you taking me?" The boy asked as his former instructor walked to the back of the kitchens.

"To the cellars." Stream responded.

"The cellars?" Malakai said, shocked. "Why?"

"There's a tunnel there that leads outside the school complex. I discovered it when I was slightly younger then you are now." Stream responded as he pulled a door open. "Come on."

"You went to this school?" Malakai asked, and Stream only nodded.

The two of them made their way down into the cellars and past stacks of boxes. As they walked farther into the complex of storage rooms, the dust became thicker and the wood that held the boxes together more decayed.

Malakai sneezed. "When was the last time someone was down here?"

"Not in many years, I hope."

Malakai followed Crying Stream past a stack of boxes. There at the very end of the room there was a pile of rubble hidden from view by the old crates.

"Help me move these." Stream said as he tried to push some of the crates out of the way. "It took me and two friends to put them there, I can't move them on my own."

Malakai put his hands on the crates and pushed them with surprising ease, revealing a long passageway. Stream blinked. "Impressive." He said as he led his former student though the tunnel.

The passage meandered for some distance, and the two men walked only by the weakened light of Malakai's anima. Finally the faith glare of daylight greeted them as the tunnel sloped upwards. Stream pushed an overgrowth of foliage out of the way and helped Malakai out of the tunnel and into a small forest just east of the school compound.

"If you run east for about ten minutes, you'll come upon a small cottage, you can hide there. Just don't remove that cloak until the threads stop glowing." Stream turned to leave, but Malakai put a hand on his arm.

"You're going to leave me?" The boy was obviously scared.

The older man put his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Just for a short time. There are some things I need to get. Now go, the longer you stay here the greater the risk."

*******

As Crying Stream walked the hallways of the school towards his room the last person he expected to run into was the school's dominie with the Immaculate Monk in tow. The old woman called out to him.

"Instructor Stream! Where were you? You disappeared after…" She stopped after taking in the disheveled state of his robes.

"My apologies, Dominie. I was separated from the group and spent my time trying to avoid that… boy." Stream said cautiously.

The monk stepped in front of the dominie before she could respond. By the look on her face, Stream could tell that she was not accustomed to being treated so rudely. "Did you happen to see where the Anathema disappeared to?" he asked Stream.

"Yes, I saw him crossing the western-most field. I think he was heading to the wall." He lied.

"Please hurry," the dominie told the Dragon-Blooded monk curtly, "I don't think the guards are prepared to deal with him if he chooses to attack"

"What do you know about this boy?" The monk asked suspiciously, ignoring the dominie.

"Not very much, he was one of my students, but I didn't know him very well." He sighed. "I certainly didn't expect this from him. I think some of the other children might be able to tell you more." The monk regarded Stream for a moment before walking away without another word.

"Thank you, instructor Stream." The dominie nodded to him and went to follow the monk. 

Stream sighed in relief and continued to his rooms.

*******

When Crying Stream finally reached the cabin, he found Malakai asleep in a chair. He had brought the few possessions he intended to take with him, including the tomes he had taken from their hiding place. He set his bag next to a crude loom he had set up some time ago, when he first began using the cabin as a workshop. He walked over to check on the sleeping dynast. Malakai shifted fitfully in his sleep but didn't waken. 

Stream had first found the ruined cabin in his youth, when he and his two closest friends had sneaked out of the school to do some exploring. When he had returned as a teacher, he had sought out the cabin again and converted it into a workshop. It was far from luxurious, but it was secure and at the moment, it was exactly the sort of shelter the young Exalt needed.

Stream took some food out of his bag and was about to put it away when he heard Malakai starting to get up. He turned and ended up looking into the young man's sacred eyes. "So you're awake. I'm sorry I had to abandon you, but I had some business at the school to resolve. I'm certain you have a lot of questions, but first thing's first, we both need to eat."

"Why did you help me?" Malakai blurted out.

Stream smiled. "I though we were going to leave the questions for later." He rummaged though his bag and pulled out some bread and a hunk of cheese. "I helped you because I recognized one of my own kind."

Malakai's eye widened. "You're an Anathema? Like me?" he asked, his voice shaking.

Stream frowned. He put down the food he was holding, and crossed the room to stand in front of Malakai. He took the boy's chin in his hand and stared hard into his eyes. "Never call yourself that. Anathema is just a name that the Dragon-Blooded gave to those more powerful then they."

If it was possible, Malakai's eyes got even wider. "More powerful?"

At that Stream laughed and released the boy. "Child, you just defeated two full grown Dragon-Blooded. How can you have any doubts that you are more powerful?"

Malakai pulled the coarse cloak tighter around his body. Stream sighed. 

"I guess I had better start from the beginning." Stream said as he picked up the food again and began to cut it into pieces on a table. "Your idiotic history instructor should at least have told you the basics." He grumbled to himself.

"The world was originally formed out of a substance called the Wyld. This is pure chaos. Out of this born all of the earliest beings, called primordials. Humanity was likewise also born from the Wyld, but was enslaved from the beginning by the primordials. The Unconquered Sun, the greatest of all the old gods, saw this and chose to change it. He, the Lady Luna, the Five Maiden Planets, and the Five Elemental Dragons chose from among humanity the most virtuous mortals and granted them Their power so that the Chosen could rescue human kind from the grip of the primordials.

"Those who were blessed by the Elemental Dragons were called the Terrestrial Exalted, though you now know them as the Dragon-Blooded. Despite what they tell the world about being the 'Princes of the Earth' they were, in fact, the foot soldiers of the first age, and the weakest of all the Exalted. Above them stood the three kinds of Celestial Exalted." He continued as he placed the cheese and bread on plates. "Those blessed by the five Maidens were known as the Sidereal, and they were seers and advisors to the first realm. Above the Sidereal stood the Lunar Exalted, and they were shape-shifters and the lieutenants of the first realm. Finally the leaders of the first realm and the most powerful of all of the Exalted were those blessed by the Unconquered Sun himself, the Solars.

"At the end of the first age, the Unconquered Sun turned his back on the Solar Exalted because many had become hedonistic, and lacked compassion. The Dragon-Blooded, who while they were the weakest of the Exalted, were also the greatest in numbers, rose up against the Celestials. They betrayed and murdered their masters because they believed that what they were doing was for the good of all humanity. It was, it seems, the Sidereal that had instructed them to do so, though to what end, I do not know.

"However, after the Dragon-Blooded seized control of the realm, the barriers that had protected the world from the encroachment of the Wyld weakened, and a disease, known as the Great Contagion, swept down upon the cities. It is said that nine out of every ten men died of the contagion." Stream added some meat to the plates. "And then the Fair Folk attacked. They are, as you should already know, creatures born from nearly pure Wyld energies. They attacked from all of the edges of he world where the Wyld still exists even today. The Dragon-Blooded armies didn't stand a chance." He filled pair of wooden goblets with wine. 

"Then from nowhere the Scarlet Empress appeared. She took control of the ancient protections that Solars had put into place. She drove the Fair Folk back into the Wyld and declared herself Empress. She forged an entire government, and formed the Wyld Hunt to chase down any reborn Celestials that might challenge her authority. She restored some order to the world, even if it will never again compare to the glories of the first age. She has ruled for seven-hundred years now, which makes her the oldest living Dragon-Blooded. She was also, your ancestor, but I think you already know that." Stream handed a plate and a goblet to Malakai. "I think that's enough of a history lesson for now. Eat up, and then get some more rest, tomorrow is going to be a long day for both of us."


	5. Sparrow

Sparrow

Salia could hear the baby crying in the next room. She knew mother had wanted her to take care of her little sister, but she was too scared. She drew her knees closer to her tiny body and tried not to sob.

"Please, please, stop crying, Jenna." She whispered to herself, the smallest of tears running down her cheek. "Please, Jenna, they'll hear you." She hoped beyond hope, that somehow the baby would hear her and stop crying.

Salia could still hear the sound of yelling. Sometimes she heard the clash of weapons, but those sounds were becoming rarer. She didn't dare come out from her hiding place beneath the bed to see if the fighting was over. Just out of her sight, Nana's body lay. Salia could see the blood slowly seeping towards her. When the Scary People had come, Nana had pushed Salia under her bed, but Nana didn't have anywhere to go, so the Scary People had killed her. Salia had heard Nana scream for a long time. Salia could still hear screaming now and then. The Scary People didn't look under the bed. Surely no one could fit down there. But Salia could, she was small and quick and the Scary People didn't see her.

Nana had told her not to come out of hiding until all the Scary People were gone, but Mother had told her only a month ago to take care of the baby when Nana couldn't. Now that both Nana and Mother were gone, who would take care of Jenna? Salia knew the answer to that; she would take care of Jenna. She would have to.

She was just about to come out of her hiding place and go to the nursery to get the baby, when she heard footsteps. She froze in place. She heard someone walk into the baby's room, and then Jenna stopped crying. Salia was a little relieved. That meant that the baby must be okay! The person walked out of the nursery and into the hallway. He walked towards the door of Salia's room. She could hear the man talking to himself. "Children!" he mumbled. "They send me after children!" he said some words that Salia couldn't understand.

Salia was scared again. This wasn't right! She'd never heard this man before. He scared her!

She crept back into her hiding place. She sat there shivering as the man started to open the door to her room. She heard other footsteps then. Someone was running towards the scary man. The scary man said those unfamiliar words again. There was a clang noise, like swords, and then something heavy hit the ground.

Salia backed farther into the space under her bed. She heard footsteps again. The new person walked into the nursery where the baby was and then just stopped. He waited for a long time before moving again. He walked back into the hallway and then opened the door Salia's room. He stopped again. Then he walked forward more slowly. Salia could see his legs now. He knelt down next to Nana's body.

"Oh no," he breathed, "Oh Nana, no."

Salia knew that voice! It was Adrian! Her big brother had come home. Now everything was going to be okay again.

She squirmed out of her hiding place and ran towards him. Adrian looked at her like she was a ghost, and she felt much the same way towards him, but the moment she grabbed his arm, he swept her into an embrace.

"Oh, Salia," she could feel his tears on the top of her head as he stroked her hair. "I thought that you were gone. Oh, my little sparrow, I was so afraid that they'd taken you."

"Adrian, what's going on? Who are these people? Where's father?" she sobbed into his shoulder.

"Hush, hush." He stood and picked her up. "Hold on to me Salia. We have to leave now"

She wrapped her arms around his neck. He'd gotten so much bigger. He was taller then father now. She noticed that he had a pair of swords across his back. She knew those swords! Ever since she had been so little that she could barely walk, those swords had hung above the fireplace in main hall. Mother had told her that they should never be taken down unless it was really important. She was going to ask Adrian about them, but then she noticed something else. "Adrian," she asked, "Why are Nana's cloths torn like that?" But he didn't answer, he just ran from the room, carrying her.

"Adrian, we should get the baby, Mother told me to take care of her." But he kept on running. "Adrian! We can't leave Jenna!"

"Hush, little sparrow, it's too late." She felt herself go numb.

He held her as he ran from the room and into the hall. Salia saw things that scared her. She saw one of her cousins lying in a red pool. She saw servants slumped up against walls with arrows going through their bodies. When Adrian ran through the study, she saw their father, lying perfectly still, next to the urn that held her mother's ashes.

She closed her eyes; she didn't want to see anymore. She was so scared! He ran for hours, out of the villa, and into the surrounding forests. At one point she was certain that they were being chased, but she didn't open her eyes. He ran and ran. Salia felt branches whip the back of her head as they fled into the night. Adrian never slowed. She never would have thought that it was possible for anyone to run for that long, but he did. He ran and ran and…

*******

  
  


She opened her eyes slowly, and her thoughts shifted into focus; brushing away distant memories. Her stomach rumbled with hunger and she tried to pull herself from her bed of leaves. She ran dirty fingers through the tangled mass of hair that clung to her back and neck, dislodging twigs and leaves, mud and insects. She inhaled, sifting through the myriad of scents.

Rain, trees, forest, wolf, deer... prey. She was hungry and she smelled prey.

She pulled herself into a crouch and observed her surroundings. Near by, her companion watched her, her own hunger mirrored in his animal eyes. He half closed his eyes to yawn lazily, displaying bright fangs. She didn't have any fangs like those, she needed other things to do her hunting.

She shifted through the mass of leaves on which she had lain, dislodging a pair of objects, their sharp edges hidden by worn casings. She pulled them both free. The metal beneath gleamed incredibly bright, one blade gold and one sliver, unmarked by time. Some fading memory suggested that such a thing was not natural, but as she tried to grasp at the meaning of the feeling, it flitted away from her.

She growled in annoyance, and her companion turned to look at her, questioning. He was hungry, very hungry, she could feel it, but he was waiting for her to decide that it was time to hunt.

She could wait no longer, she stood upright, sniffing at the air. The scent of deer came from the direction of the setting sun, so she followed it. 

She walked bent over, the handles of her blades grasped tightly in her hands as she used her arms to support herself and keep her nose close enough to the ground to track the scent. Once she was certain where the smell originated, she took off at a run, her feet automatically avoiding broken twigs and dry leaves. Her companion followed, just as silently.

The familiar paths of the forest passed by in a blur. The light from the sun was waning and she felt her eyes adjust to the nighttime. The calls of insects and owls came from the tree tops and bushes as she continued on her way. The forest floor grew slowly darker. She was comfortable now.

She stopped for an instant. Just before her, the dimming light was filtering through the tree unnaturally. She tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. Something smelled wrong.

As she watched, the buds on the trees burst into sudden bloom, the the flowers fell free, taking root in the forest floor. The trees themselves began to deform; their shapes shifting, becoming more animal. The air before her thickened and rolled onto itself.

She growled low in her throat. She had seen enough.

Forced to abandon the pray she had chosen in order to avoid the dangerous patch of wood, she took off in another direction, hoping to pick up the scent of a new prey.

When she did manage to catch the scent of food, it wasn't what she expected.

She heard voices, humans. Normally that would have been enough to send her running in the other direction, but she felt her own hunger, as well as her companion's, pulling at her. Light was seeping from between densely woven branches and underbrush ahead. She could smell smoke, human, and dogs. Her companion growled out his distaste for the intruders, and she had to agree.

She moved silently forward towards the human voices. Her companion stayed behind, crouching down into the shadows. Once she reached the outer edge of the ring of light, she scampered up a tree, careful to keep the light from shining on the blades she carried. Moving slowly, she stepped onto one of the tree branches. She brushed aside the leaves in her way as she slid her feet father out along the branch. She could feel it bowing under her weight. Once out far enough, she held still to watch them.

Her eyes scanned the group from her hiding place, now more motivated more by curiosity than hunger. She blinked repeatedly, her eyes hurt by both the sudden bright light and smoke. There were two male humans, and one female. They were all clad in the sort of things humans wore when they traveled, and all carrying weapons. The largest male was the oldest, the female, perhaps a decade younger, and the last male, yet another decade younger. They were singeing several rabbit carcasses over their fire. At their feet lay five dogs, smaller pathetic relatives to her companion. She could see why he disliked them so.

At the smell of food, now so close to her, she felt her mouth water. Charred or not, the meat was very appetizing and she was very hungry.

She tensed when she heard them begin to speak. Those sounds were so familiar, but she couldn't understand them. She knew they had meaning, but the memories were, as ever, out of her reach. She continued to watch them. Were all humans so large? She looked at the packs they had brought with them. Did they intend to stay?

No, she wouldn't let them. These were her woods, her territory. She growled. The humans didn't hear her, but the dogs did. They responded with their own growls, alerting the humans.

She slowly moved backwards along the branch, as the human female, the one that had been sitting closest to her hiding place turned to look up into the branches.

The males and female now exchanged more words. She used the sound of their voices to cover her movements as she stepped farther back. Then the female did something unexpected. The female lifted a big of piece of burning wood up closer to the branches. This startled the huntress, and she lost her balance, falling off the branch. She twisted her body mid-fall, careful to keep her weapons away from her body. She landed crouched on all fours in front of them.

The humans were now looking at her, their faces filled with confusion. One of them raised a weapon towards her and she growled at him, raising her own blade.

"What is it?" one of the males asked.

She inclined her head at the sound, unsure of what to make of it.

"I think it's a child." the female responded.

The female stepped froward slowly, offering a bit of meat, taken from the charred rabbits. The smell was tempting, but she wasn't willing to accept anything from these creatures that had invaded her territory.

One of the males raised an object she recognized as a weapon, a bow. He held it with both hands, pointing it at her.

"By the dragons! That's no child! Look at its eyes!" He held the weapon threateningly and she began to back away, ready to run.

"Casin! Stop!"

"He's right, it's some sort of wyld-spawned barbarian monster. Kill it now!"

At their obvious aggressive motions, she turned to bolt back into the forest and felt something pierce her shoulder. She cried out in pain but didn't slow her pace. She could hear the dogs barking at her heels, but her companion chased the retched things away. 

She could feel her blood seeping through the hides she wore. In a panic of blind pain she stumbled to the ground, losing consciousness for a moment. When she opened her eyes again she could she one of the two males approaching her. She inhaled his scent. It was the one that had hurt her.

She held perfectly, deathly still, waiting until he was close. She felt him stop to stand over her, hesitantly, and then his eyes caught on the shinning blades of her swords and he was reaching down towards them, convinced she must have been dead. She held her breath, until he was just close enough.

Her eyes snapped open and she stared into his. His eyes went wide and she saw him begin to back up. She grinned at him and then lashed out with inhuman speed, her blade cutting through his neck and chest. He fell to the ground, unmoving as the smell of his blood filled the glade.

Her companion joined her then, stopping to sniff at her wound, and inspect the body. She turned from him as he began to gnaw on the corpse's leg.

She pulled herself to her feet, stopping to study the bit of sharpened wood embedded in her shoulder. She pulled it free, shaking off the wave of dizziness that hit her as her blood drained out of the wound. She placed her hand over the wound, only then stopping to notice the faint silver light coming off of her skin. Something about it pulled memories to her, from the very edge of her consciousness, but she couldn't quite grasp them. The feeling irritated her in its familiarity.

Human voices, and the barking of dogs pulled her thoughts back to reality. Her companion had interrupted his meal to grow at the approaching outsiders. There were more now, then she had seen. They had brought others with them. The revelation only strengthened her suspicion that they were planning to stay.

She turned to look down at him, signaling that it was time to go. He was reluctant to leave his meal, but complied nevertheless. Fearing that the dogs would be able to track her by the sent of her blood, she ripped a section of clean cloth off the man's clothes and used it to cover the wound, ignoring the pain that was already beginning to fade.

She ran back through the forest with her companion at her side. His hunger was at least partially sated, but she would never be able to bring herself to look at humans as meat. She would need to find something else.

She stopped near a familiar stream. Crouching down onto the ground, she dipped her hand into the cool water. As her fingers touched the liquid, the collected dirt and grime washed off, leaving them a still a darker shade of brown then she has remembered. She proceeded clean her wound as her companion went off in search of more food.

She felt shocks of pain lance through the injury as she bathed it with the cold water, but she paid them no heed. The injury would heal, and soon, she was sure of that. Hadn't it been that way since... Since what? It was something important, but she felt like she was grasping for the impossible.

She cleaned the blood that had come to stain her furs and hides, and pulled her figures through her matted hair. For the first time in... months, perhaps years, her filthy state was beginning to bother her. She straightened her back, and sat with her legs folded under her and her hands in her lap. Someone had once told her to sit like that, but she didn't know who. Seeing those humans had somehow brought back fading recollections. Yet they remained nothing more shifting shadows; dancing leaves that would be blown out of her grasp whenever she reached for them.

Dreams told her more than waking moments did, but like everything else, she forgot them quickly. She tried hopelessly to remember what she had dreamed of. Now she was certain it was important. She glanced down towards the blades she had carried with her.

They had been in the dream, but she wasn't the one carrying them. Someone else held them, someone she had cared about once. An image came to her of a tall young man, with short silver hair and blue eyes. 

What had happened to him?

That question called up feelings of sorrow, anger, and loneliness. She felt water build up in the corners of her eyes.

A quiet whine made her glance up to see her companion, carrying a dead rabbit in his mouth and looking at her with concern. She brushed the moisture away, suddenly angry for letting herself become so... so human. She quickly shifted back into a crouch and banished her earlier thoughts as irrelevant.

She accepted the rabbit and quickly skinned it, eating the flesh raw while her companion watched on with concern in his eyes.

Soon she would have to relocate; to find new territory. If enough humans came, then they would not leave her in peace and they would surely hunt her for killing one of their own. She knew they could not head closer towards the dangerous tribes and places of shifting, unnatural forest. So she would have to go towards the sunsets.

She scowled. They would have to go to where the humans were more plentiful, but she had at least learned that it would be wise to avoid them completely. She would not let them find her this time.

She would stay away from the humans. She would not trust them, because to trust, was to be murdered.


	6. Caspian

  


Caspian

When Caspian strode through the doors to his family's palace, he was expecting some sort of reception, or at the very least, some sort of response. After all, he had been gone for quite some time commanding part of his family's fleet of merchant vessels, and normally when he returned to Chiaroscuro from such a long trip, his parents would arrange for a feast or the like.

However, today he was greeted with silence and deserted halls. Well, not deserted per se, the usual collection of servant and guards scrambled about the marble hallways, intent on their assigned duties, but his parents, with their usual cheery greetings, and his baby-sister with her sweet, adoring smile were quite conspicuously missing.

This was disappointing to say the least; not to mention off-putting.

"You there!" he called out to one of the clerks, scurrying through the halls.

The man stopped in his tracks, turning to regard Caspian with an owlish-wide-eyed gaze. He shifted his armload of books, before bowing his head.

"Y-yes, My Lord?" the man responded, clearly unnerved.

Caspian gave him a cheery grim. "Now, now, none of that... er..." he looked the man up and down for a second, trying to recall whether he had seen him before. "What was your name again?"

The man seemed even more startled by the friendly attitude, and Caspian restrained a sigh of annoyance while the man tried to re-organize his thoughts. Honestly, he could understand the need to run a tight, disciplined, and efficient business, but sometimes, his father really did take it too far. Caspian always preferred his underlings be comfortable with speaking with him.

His father ran the more, social aspects of their merchant house, while his mother, a truly brilliant woman (though a bit of a recluse), handled the books and money.

"I'm... I'm Hadeen, Sir," the man finally manged to stutter out.

"Well then, Hadeen, if you please, could you tell me where the rest of my family has run off to?" Caspian responded, still trying to remain friendly, despite the less than encouraging response.

"Your parents, Sir, are meeting with the Tri-Khan at his palace," the young clerk manged to reply.

Caspian nodded. That should not have come as a surprise, his parents were regular fixtures in the court of the Tri-Khan, the ruler/dictator of the southern city. It was, after all, the political practices of the Tri-Khan, namely his lose alliance with the Realm, that allowed wealthy, Guild-aligned merchant families such as Caspian's own to stay in business. His parents, therefor, had good reason to to keep an eye on the political atmosphere in Chiaroscuro.

"And, you sister, is visiting with her intended..."

Caspian barely contained his surprise. Adella was engaged to be married? Had he really been gone for so long? He stopped to consider who his family may have chosen for her, but he had been away long enough that he had no idea. Who ever it was, Caspian decided, he had better make her happy or the man was going to meet with a swift and gruesome death.

Caspian looked back down at the man, who was clearly dwarfed by the merchant-prince's height. Hadeen was practically shaking in his boots, unnerved by the play of emotions on his superior's face. Caspian smiled at him again, and for once the twitchy little man seemed to calm himself.

"Thank you, there will be a bonus in your pay-packet." That, at least earned the first smile Caspian had yet seen from the man, though a tentative one. "Now, back to your duties, and do try to cheer up a bit. You look as though you've swallowed something unpleasant."

The man's eyes widened in shock, and then he smiled, genuinely for a change, and Caspian nodded to him as he turned to go back to his duties.

Caspian turned back to the servants that were bringing his belongings into the palatial manor just long enough to give them quick orders, before turning and climbing up the grand staircase and then striding down one of the many marble hallways towards his rooms.

His boot-clad feet created incongruous tapping echoes against the stone floors, completely at odds with the silent slippered footsteps of the servants he passed along the way. Caspian payed it no mind. After months sailing the merchant routes, the only thing on his mind was a warm bath... and perhaps some company, of the feminine variety.

He passed vast arched windows which allowed in the cooling breezes coming off the sea, and offered a magnificent view of the docks. He strode past beautiful tapestries from all over the Realm and beyond, and every conceivable display of wealth, from tremendous marble pillars, to intricate statues. It was his father's taste, really, and the fashion among the wealthy of many of the southern cities to emulated some of the styles seem in the Dynastic houses of the Realm. It bored Caspian.

He finally reached his chambers, and threw open the double doors. Inside, he was pleased to see, servants were already airing the rooms out, and by the sound coming from his bathing room, filling the large stone tub. He pushed through the door to the bathing chamber, stopping to watch as the servants finished pouring heated water and sweetly scented soap. The room was pleasantly cool, and the water, well heated.

Caspian chased away the servants that remained to help him undress (something he believed he was perfectly capable of doing himself), allowing only his manservant, Graca to remain behind. He shed his garments, and flexed tightly corded muscles as he eased himself into the water.

Caspian sighed in relief, allowing the warm water to help diminish the aches of long travel. He held still as Graca pulled a razor over his (mostly) bald head, leaving only the thick, black ponytail at the crown of his head untouched. He then told Graca to take the rest of the evening off, to do whatever it was that Graca did on his own time.

Caspian remained in the tub for sometime longer, finally pulling himself free of the water and retrieving a towel to dry himself with when the water became cold, and the sun had begun to set over the horizon. He pulled on a pair of loose silk pants, and an elaborate, silk, knee length tunic before leaving the bathing chamber, and returning to his sitting room.

The servants had all left, but the room was not empty. _She _was leaning against the arched doorway that lead to his balcony.

She stood there, regarding the sunset. The black silk dress she wore showed very little of her amazingly pale skin (skin that was very different from the darker mahogany found among the southerners) yet did little to hide her perfect form. As he stood there, she turned to face him, and brushed strands of straight black hair off her shoulder. Her every move was slow and languid. She fixed him with emerald-green eyes and smiled.

Despite her obvious foreignness, only a blind man would have been able to argue against her incredible beauty. Nevertheless, even though he professed to have a weakness for beautiful woman, Caspian didn't like Mikala, or whatever her real name was, in the slightest.

He remembered when his father had hired the woman as an astrologer, completely unaware of the caliber of the seer he was taking into his service. From the beginning she had showed an unusual interest in Caspian, who was then a much younger and more foolish man. At first he had been flattered to have the attention of such a magnificent creature, but something about her set him on edge, and the more time he spent around her, the more he was certain that she was not to be trusted. She seemed too _aware;_ too sure of the future and his place in it.

But, despite his misgivings, Caspian realized with a barely suppressed shudder, he owed her his life.

She had warned him before his Exaltation; told him were he could go to hide. He wasn't certain why, but he had believed her, and he was glad of it now. He didn't want to think about what would have happened if he had been seen. Chiaroscuro may have been a free city, but the Tri-Khan had never stopped the Empress's Wyld Hunt from operating within the city. Because of Mikala, he had been able to hide in cave until his caste-mark had faded from his forehead. The blasted thing had lingered for over a week, during which time it was Mikala who had brought him food and fresh clothing, and made excuses to his family for him.

When he had, at last, returned home, she had given him ancient documents and books that had helped explain to him what had happened to him. She had put him in touch with another Anathema, a sorcerer by the name of Crying Stream, and the two of them, with the aid of Stream's magic, had exchanged many letters.

He owed her so much, yet Caspian had still been unable to understand the feelings of unease that she filled him with. Not anymore, now he knew why.

Mikala locked her green eyes on to his black ones, her smile never wavering, despite his glower. When she spoke, her voice was like velvet.

"I had never pegged you for a coward, Caspian, of the Eclipse Caste." Her smile grew at his responding frown. "Yet, when I tell you that there are important things to be done, when I tell you that you that the time is coming to take action against the Dragon-Blooded, when I tell you that you must prepare, what do you do?" With each word she had stepped closer to him, until now she was only an arm's length away. "You run," she hissed, her smile becoming a sneer. " You take your ships and flee to oceans. You go to search for some near mythical pirate-queen whom you have no hope of finding." Her eyes flashed in annoyance and disdain. 

"I have ever acted in your best interests," she continued. "Why then, can you not simply learn to trust me?"

She was no more than a hand's length away from him now, fixing him with an unnerving green gaze. Caspian felt his anger begin to build up. As swiftly as a wildcat he lashed out and caught her by the throat, spun her around and pushed her against the wall. Her eyes widened for a moment, before she calmed herself, neither struggling, nor protesting, leavening him holding her against the wall by her neck.

"Because, _Sidereal_," he said, spitting out the word like a curse, "I have learned many things, and remembered many things that death had taken from me." His eyes held hers now and his fingers tight on her neck, yet she showed no signs of fear. "I remembered how your kind betrayed us, and I remembered what it felt like to die. That, I can assure you, is not a feeling one easily forgets."

She watched him, her expression irritatingly inscrutable. "The you should know that you gave us little choice." His fingers tightened, and she seemed to take a moment to examine him, as if uncertain what to make of this uncharacteristic show of temper. "You should know, that not all of us agreed with the decision, but at the time we could see no other path."

"What do you mean?" he asked, quietly, trying to regain his calm.

"I will not discuss this with you, not now, and not like this. Release me."

Caspian eased his grip, momentarily embarrassed at his lack of control. He released her, and immediately turned his back on her, striding across the room to seat himself in a chair.

"I still have no reason to trust you, Sidereal," he told her, reaching to the table next to him for a crystal pitcher filled with chilled wine.

"My name, as I'm sure you should know, is Mikala." Her tone was acerbic; her expression was cold.

Caspian snorted. "Oh please, 'Mikala'? 'Servitor' in one of the elder tongues? I thought Sidereal where known for their subtlety?" He filled a goblet with and took a few sips before replacing it on the table.

She almost seemed pleased that he had picked up on that. "We are," she said, with the ghost of a smile gracing her lips. "Most people wouldn't have known that."

He snorted, gesturing for her to seat herself in one of the chairs opposite his own. "You still haven't given me any reason to trust you."

"Aside from saving your life?" she asked as she regarded the chair. He could tell she was still offended, and with good reason. He felt slightly ashamed of his earlier behavior, but only slightly.

"I have no reason to believe you didn't do that for your own benefit, as you so clearly want something from me." He was surprised when she walked across the room to stand in front of him. She dropped to one knee and fixed him with an intense stare.

"Then I will give you my oath! You are of the Eclipse, you can bind me to my words. But you must learn to trust me!"

Caspian balked at the look in her eyes. She grabbed one of his hands. He felt as if he'd been shocked, and he snatched it away quickly. As much sense as her suggestion made, he didn't want to be in anyway bound to this woman, with her foreign beauty and piercing eyes.

She seemed to sense this, because she pulled away and seated herself opposite him.

"You were gone for over a year."

He didn't respond. He merely retrieved his glass of wine and stared into its depths. Her voice had held an accusation, and he had nothing to say to that. When she remained silent, it became clear that she was expecting him to reply.

Caspian sighed, not taking his eyes from the glass. "Yes, well, I am a merchant, and sometimes it becomes necessary for me to accompany the ships."

Her snot of disdain caused him to tighten his grip on his wineglass in annoyance.

"That is a lie. Those ships would have done well without you. You weren't needed there, and most wise merchants, having heard that pirates were particularly active in an area, would have gone in the other direction. 

He said nothing, so she continued. "You were looking for her, this pirate captain. You should have spoken to me, I could have helped you."

"Would you have?" he asked with a sneer. "Would it have been part of your plan?"

"How important is finding her to you?"

Caspian looked her over, intently. Her voice had been filled with some unrecognizable emotion. Hurt? Impossible.

He couldn't come up with an answer to her inquiry. He didn't have one. He didn't know himself, so instead he said, "She's another Solar, I'm sure of it."

"That goes without saying, but you haven't answered my question."

Caspian looked away, avoiding her gaze. "I'm tired of being alone."

He heard her exhale slowly. "You aren't. I put you into contact with Crying Stream, didn't I?"

"It isn't the same, and he hasn't been responding to my letters."

"He has... rather a lot to deal with at the moment. Why is this, is she, so important?" she asked. He still didn't respond, his gaze drawn to the view of the sea out the massive windows. Mikala sighed. "Very well, I will help you with this." 

At her statement, Caspian turned back to meet her eyes. They were as unreadable as always. He opened his mouth to say something, though what, he wasn't sure, perhaps he was going to thank her, but she cut him off.

"I can show you where to take your ships to meet her. That, however, is all I can do. Convincing her not to kill you, is your business." Her voice was brusque, businesslike, but her eyes flashed with some hidden emotion. "It will not, however, be anytime soon," she continued, despite his sudden sour expression. "There are things yet that I need to do, and likewise, I believe your pirate is currently indisposed."

Caspian snorted. "What then, am I suppose to do in the meantime?" It came out sound rather more petulant than he had intended, but he had a hard time forcing himself to care.

As Mikala stood from her chair, she gave him a look like someone regarding an annoying child. "Take up a hobby maybe?" she said with an acerbic smile "Or spend sometime with your family, perhaps. Your sister is to be married soon, perhaps you should plan on attending the wedding. I believe you will be able to find something to keep you amused, just please, remember to keep a low profile. We do not need to deal with the Wyld Hunt at just this moment."

As she turned to leave the room, he rolled his eyes at her retreating back and propped his feet up on the small table in front of him. "Well I was planning on simply announcing myself to them, but you have made me see my error," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I would think you have learned to give me a bit more credit than that."

She stopped with one hand on the door and without turning to face him she said, "Odd, how that works both ways," and then she was gone, the large door closing behind her with a heavy thud.

He sat there for some time as the day's last light faded from the room, glaring at the door, trying to force down his annoyance. Part of his mind insisted that she had a point, and that only served to annoy him more. 

He tightened his grip on the wine glass as he thought about what she had said. Feeling the surface begin to buckle under the pressure, he forced himself to relax. He inhaled deeply before looking down at the remaining ruby-red dregs.

He hated the way she made him feel as if he wasn't in control of himself, and of his own destiny. It always seemed as if she somehow manged to manipulate him into doing as she wanted, and he was certain that this time as no exception. This annoyed him beyond all else. He was accustomed to having people dance to his tune, not the other way around.

"What is happening to me?" he asked himself, heaving a heavy sigh, before putting the glass down on the table and getting to his feet. He glanced around his darkened surroundings, suddenly feeling very weary. He walked to the door and called on one of the waiting servants to prepare his bed. He could greet his family in the morning, but for now, he needed rest.


End file.
